


let me invade your space

by immortalized



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: I tried my best, M/M, i hope you like it!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-13
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-20 23:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2447216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/immortalized/pseuds/immortalized
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry is a second year uni student who might kinda be in love with his professor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	let me invade your space

**Author's Note:**

  * For [relmsey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/relmsey/gifts).



> hms wolfstar asked for "- teacher!Nick/student!Harry AU. I'm not ashamed to admit that's one of my favourite tropes. High school/college/university."
> 
> So I tried my best! Let me know how it is, haha! Thanks for the great prompts!!!

Harry takes a deep breath and tightens his grip on the guitar slung around his torso, trying not to freak out. He always gets like this before performances, always, and no matter how well his set goes, he’s still super anxious before his next one.

“Calm down, mate,” Louis says at his shoulder, gripping his arms to still them. “You’ve done this once a week every week for the past year. You’ve got this.”

Harry just shakes his head, biting his bottom lip. He’s afraid that if he opens his mouth, he’ll get sick.

Louis sighs and rubs his hand up and down the side of Harry’s arm. “C’mon, H. You’re great. You’re going to do amazing.”

“I know that,” Harry says. “But I can’t help it.”

“I know, babe,” Zayn says, emerging at the other side of Harry with Liam. He pats Harry’s shoulder a little awkwardly. “But you’re going on in less than a minute, so go on.”

“Good luck,” Liam says, clapping him on the back.

“Thanks, man,” Harry says, nodding at the previous act as he exits to backstage. 

“Break a leg,” Louis says.

Harry takes another deep breath and pushes through the curtain to the stage. The pub is pretty crowded tonight, with a large cluster of people scattered through the tables and by the bar. He takes a seat on the little wooden stool in the middle of the spotlight, adjusting the mic to his height and shifting to get comfortable. This has got to be his billionth time doing this, yet it doesn’t make it any easier.

Harry closes his eyes and sings.

“Unsurprisingly, that went well,” Liam remarks as Harry dismounts the stage to loud cheering half an hour later. He’s got one arm slung around Zayn and another nursing a basket of chips. 

Harry rolls his eyes and flips him off. “It’s not my fault I get stage fright, _Leeyum_.”

Liam laughs and untangles himself from Zayn long enough to give Harry a quick hug. “You were great.”

“Thanks, mate,” Harry says, smiling. He packs his guitar up into its case. “Wanna get drinks?”

“Nah, man, think we’re gonna head out,” Louis says. “Early morning for me tomorrow.” 

Harry winces, nodding sympathetically. Zayn and Louis have an eight o’clock class tomorrow morning. “See ya.”

Liam waves as Zayn and Louis lead the way out of the pub. Niall waves back, then turns to Harry.

“I’ll buy you a drink,” Niall says, hooking his arm through Harry’s. “Great set tonight, H.”

“Thanks, Niall,” Harry beams. “Did you like the new cover I did? Teenage Dirtbag?”

“It was fucking great,” Niall says excitedly, leading him towards the bar. “You smashed it.” 

The bar isn’t as crowded now; most of the pubgoers left after the last set. Harry and Niall slide onto the barstools and get beers, chatting and talking over the noise in the pub. Their conversation quickly dissolves into Harry’s throwing chips into Niall’s mouth when he notices a telltale quiff out of the corner of his eye. He grabs Niall’s arm, shaking it so hard that Niall splutters, grabbing his beer from the bar to wash down the chips he’d nearly choked on.

“Calm yourself, I nearly just died,” Niall yelled.

“Shh,” Harry hissed. “That’s my professor, Niall.”

“What? Where?” Niall’s head swivels around the room in a very conspicuous way.

“Don’t look!” Harry tightens his grip on Niall’s arm and leans in. “He’s by the booth in the back right corner.”

Niall, of course, whips his head around to look at the back right corner. “Looks a bit familiar.”

“He’s my media studies professor,” Harry whispers hurriedly. “He’s smart and funny and he likes puppies. And he’s super good-looking and I’m sad.”

Niall’s face turns sympathetic. “Aww, H, don’t put yourself down. You’re super hot.”

Harry sighs. “He’s so tall and dresses so well.” Those are probably his two biggest weaknesses, if he's being honest with himself.

NIall glances up and down at Harry and nods once, affirmatively. “I’d fuck you.”

Harry nearly chokes. “What?”

Niall shrugs. “I’d fuck you. What makes you think he won’t?”

Harry sighs. “He’s my professor, Niall.”

“Don’t let that stop you,” Niall says. “Age is but a number.”

“That’s literally not even the problem, Niall.”

“What is, then?”

“I’m pretty sure there are rules against students dating their professors.” Harry throws another chip into Niall’s mouth. He misses.

“So?”

“I don’t want to get kicked out of uni!”

Niall rolls his eyes. “Just go talk to him. That’s platonic, enough, yeah?”

Harry looks at the back right corner. “I don’t know…”

“Harry, go over there and say hi before I do it for you.” Harry flips Niall off and gets up.

As he approaches the booth Professor Grimshaw is sat at, he notices that he’s not alone. There are several other people crowded in the booth, which, he should’ve known, right? Why would Professor Grimshaw be here alone? There’s a girl seated next to him with blond hair and a guy with glasses and an equally tall quiff.

Harry feels a bit like a child as he walks up to the booth, but he feels a bit better when Professor Grimshaw’s eyes light up as he sees who it is.

“Harry!” He waves eagerly, and Harry feels a tad bit less uncomfortable.

“Hi, Professor,” he smiles and waves back awkwardly. “How are you?”

“Good, very good, thanks,” Professor Grimshaw says. He turns to his friends. “Guys, this is Harry, one of my students.”

“Oh?” The blond girl raises her eyebrows and wiggles them a little. “This is Harry?”

Harry is thoroughly confused. 

“Yes, Gillian, thank you,” Nick says, waving her comment away. “Harry, these are my friends Gillian and Henry.” He gestures towards the blond girl and the other man respectively.

“Nice to meet you,” Harry says politely, waving a little. 

“Tell me,” Henry says, looking at Harry with a gleam in his eye. “What do you think of Nick, here?”

“Professor Grimshaw?” Harry asks.

Professor Grimshaw grimaces and shakes his head. “No, please, call me Nick outside of class.”

“Okay, um, Nick,” Harry says. “He’s a good professor, I guess.”

“You guess?” Nick exclaims incredulously. “Really, Harry? I’m offended.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “You’re a great professor, I swear. You always make class interesting…and stuff.” The table bursts into laughter, and Harry tries not to beam too widely. He shifts a bit on his right foot and glances over at Nick. “So what brings you to a uni bar this late on a Sunday night?”

“Needed a break from grading papers,” Nick says. “I swear, it’s only been a month of school and I’m already swamped.”

“Same,” Harry says. 

Nick laughs. “Well, I’d sure hope so, seeing as you’re a uni student, after all. Gotta work hard to get that degree, right?"

“Right, yeah.” Harry feels so uncool here, standing awkwardly next to Nick's table.

“Well, we’ve gotta go, Nick,” Gillian says. “It’s almost two.”

“Alright, best be off then,” Nick says, standing up. At full height, he’s still taller than Harry. Harry finds that really really hot.

Nick leans in and claps Harry on the back in a brief, very platonic bro-hug. Harry watches him as he walks out the door and continues to stare for a moment or two afterwards. He didn’t expect Professor Grimshaw - no, Nick - to be so bright and witty and funny even in a casual setting outside of the classroom. He’d only talked to Nick in classes and in his office a few times, and each time, his tiny little crush grew a little bit bigger, burned a little bit hotter. But seeing him like this, in a dimly lit bar with a few of his friends and his cheeks flushed from drinks is the worst. Harry’s chest feels a little tight.

He is so screwed.

~~~

Harry doesn’t see Nick outside of class again until the next week. And it wasn't even technically a non-academic related event. Professor Grimshaw had offered a study session to the class earlier in the week to prepare for an upcoming exam. 

Harry didn’t really need any extra studying time for the exam, seeing as he was pretty confident in the material. But still. It was Professor Grimshaw. Funny, tall, smart, brilliant Professor Grimshaw. There was never any question about it. He was definitely going.

The next exam was on pretty easy material, and Harry was pretty prepared for it. Apparently most of his fellow classmates had felt the same way, because Harry was the only one who showed up.

Just him. Him and Professor Grimshaw.

“Call me Nick,” Professor Grimshaw says first thing. The meeting was supposed to meet at the library, but upon realizing that no one else was coming, they’d relocated to a cafe downtown.

“So, do you have any questions for the exam?” Nick asks, settling into the seat across from Harry. 

Harry fidgets a little in his seat. “Not really, no.”

Nick frowns. “At all?” He takes a bite of the muffin in front of him. “Are you sure? It’s okay to ask me for help if you need any.”

Harry shakes his head. “To be honest, I just came because I was hoping other people would come and bring questions that I could just use for extra study time.”

Nick laughs. “That’s understandable.” His long fingers wrap around the coffee cup on the table. “Well, since we’re here, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

“Um,” Harry says. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Well, what are you studying?”

“I’m a communications student,” Harry says, tracing his fingers along the pattern on the table.

“What field of communication do you want to go into?” Nick leans his head on his hand, glancing up at Harry through long lashes.

Harry swallows hard. “Um, not sure.”

“Well, what kinds do you like?”

“Television is the most fun, I think,” Harry says. “But I like radio a lot.”

“Really?” Nick grins widely. “Lucky for you, I’ve got quite a lot of experience in radio. Used to host a morning show on the local Manchester radio a few years ago.”

“That’s so sick,” Harry says. “To be honest, I like radio the most because I’m such a big music fan.”

“Me too,” Nick exclaims. “I used to collect records and spend hours at the music shops and all.”

“I love records,” Harry says. “My dad had an old record player. I used to play them all the time, especially this Elvis one he had. And I used to hang them all over my walls.”

Harry and Nick spent the next hour just chatting about music. Harry learned that Nick liked a lot of indie and underground artists, yet he was well-versed in the popular musicians. 

“Beyonce is my queen,” Nick tells him seriously. “I don’t care what anyone says. She is literally the best.”

Harry laughs. 

“Why’re you laughing at me?” Nick exclaims, grinning despite his words.

“I’m not laughing at you! I totally agree,” Harry says solemnly.

“Yeah, right.”

“I’d really like to be a radio DJ at uni,” Harry says, changing the subject. “Run my own show and everything.”

“You’d be really good at that,” Nick says. “You’ve got the voice. Nice and soothing, like.”

“I’d play tons of Beyonce, just for you.”

“Shut up!” Nick laughs. “You probably don’t even listen to Beyonce.”

“I know that one, that really good one. Grainin’ on that wood.” Harry raises his hands and swivels a little in his seat.

“Oh, God,” Nick says, actually proper cracking up now.

Harry winks. “That’s not the only thing I can grind on.” He winces inwardly. That was actually one of the worst lines he’s ever said, and by the looks of it, Nick thinks so too.

“Awful,” says Nick, shaking his head. He’s laughing, but his eyes look a little wary of Harry’s flirting. 

It’s alright. Like, Harry isn’t even allowed to flirt with Nick. He’s his professor, for god’s sakes, and Harry keeps forgetting that vital piece of information. 

For the rest of the study session, Harry tries to refrain himself from turning up the charm too much. It’s almost a reflex for him to be flirtatious, with nearly anyone he talks to, so it’s rather difficult.

But by the end of the three hours they’re sat at the table, Harry gets Nick to loosen up, and they’re throwing quips back and forth.

If it’s even possible, Harry is even more in love with Nick after they leave.

Fuck. 

~~~

That’s how it mostly goes for the rest of the month. They have a “study session” each week, which usually dissolves into casual conversation and some kind of casual flirting. Harry can’t help it. He’s only human.

At one study session, Nick and Harry relocate to a local park off campus and have a picnic. The next week, they meet up a record store on Main Street. Harry almost feels like they’re dating. They’ve gotten to the point where Harry can openly make fun of Nick and hug him and jab him. It's no big deal. Harry can keep the flirting completely platonic. Sort of. At least Nick gives it back to him.

But of course, it all had to mount at some point.

On one Friday night, Harry and Nick meet up at a pub. It’s one off-campus so they don’t see many familiar faces, which is what they were aiming for. Even though their relationship is entirely innocent, they don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea.

“What do you want to drink?” Nick asks taking a seat at the bar.

“Beer’s fine,” Harry tells him.

“Two beers,” Nick tells the bartender.

Two beers turns into two more, then two more, then two more. Which leads to nightcaps at Nick’s place. Which then leads to kissing.

“Nick,” Harry mumbles against Nick’s mouth. “What-“

“Shhh,” Nick says, kissing him harder. His hands brush up the front of Harry’s stomach and around to his back.

Harry tangles his hands in Nick’s hair and kisses him back, relishing the taste of his mouth and the roughness of his stubble. He pushes Nick against the kitchen counter, hard.

And then everything stops. Nick pulls away from Harry and stands there, breathing heavily. “Wait. We can’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry says. He can still feel Nick’s lips on his. He can’t even remember who kissed who first, just that they sort of fell together. His heart is racing, and he’s filled with a lightness that threatens to lift him off the ground.

“No, I’m sorry, Harry,” Nick says, looking away. 

“I guess I should go,” Harry says, taking the hint. 

“Yeah, probably,” Nick says. He looks shell-shocked, and there’s a weird light dimming in his eyes that kind of scares Harry.

“Call me,” Harry says.

“Yeah, okay.”

Harry leaves with a pounding heart and a pit of anxiousness settling in his stomach.

~~~

Nick doesn’t call Harry the next day, so Harry calls him, phone clenched tight in his sweaty palm.

“Are we okay?”

“Yeah,” Nick replies. “It was nothing, right? We were drunk, things happened.”

“Yeah,” Harry echoes, his stomach sinking.

“I mean, I’ve kissed loads of friends when I’m drunk,” says Nick. Harry hears some shuffling on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, okay,” Harry says. He feels like he’s stopped breathing, but he doesn’t know how to fix it.

“We’re friends, right?” Nick asks. “Nothing’s changed?”

“Yeah,” Harry says. “Friends.” Sure. Whatever.

“Alright. We good?” Nick clears his throat a little.

“We’re good,” Harry says. But he really doesn’t feel very good. He feels kind of disappointed. 

~~~

After that, things are a little awkward, but they still continue to make plans for the week. Harry tells himself that he has to act like nothing had happened if he wants to keep Nick from freaking out. They’re friends, nothing more. Nick apparently doesn’t feel that way, and Harry has to move on.

It only takes a week until everything changes. Nick had invited Harry over to his flat this weekend, which, bad idea if Harry is trying to resist putting the moves on him. But at this point, he doesn’t even care.

He shows up a little early, about fifteen minutes before Nick asked him to come over, and knocks tentatively on the door, listening closely for any movement. He hears nothing but a weak “come in” from inside the flat.

When Harry enters, everything looks nice and lived-in. Nick’s got really funky wall art decorating his hall and foyer and a cute kitchen with art all over the fridge and dishes in the sink. Harry wanders down the hall and turns into a sitting room, where Nick appears to be crying.

Harry’s heart feels a bit like crumbling when he sees Nick’s red eyes and he rushes over, embracing him in a comforting hug.

“Nick? Are you okay? Tell me what’s wrong.”

Nick swallows thickly, his hair flopping onto his forehead. “I’m sorry Harry, I forgot to text you and cancel our plans, I’m sure you were looking forward to hanging out and I’m just not up to it right now.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Harry says firmly. “What matters is you. Are you okay?”

Nick shakes his head and doesn’t speak.

Harry rubs his back. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m here for you if you want to talk.”

Nick doesn’t answer for the rest of the evening, but Harry holds onto him tighter and tucks him into bed later that night. 

The next morning, Harry stumbles into the kitchen from the couch in the living room where he’d slept last night to find Nick making coffee. He’s acting fine, whistling and dancing around the kitchen, reaching over Harry to grab some mugs in the cabinet.

“Nick?” Harry asks.

“Hiya,” Nick chirps, grabbing some cereal and milk off a shelf. “What kind of cereal do you want?”

“Um, corn flakes are fine,” Harry says, glancing at Nick. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, never better,” Nick says dismissively, waving his hand around his head, fluttering in the air like a leaf. “What kind of milk? I have 2% or skim.”

“Skim, please,” Harry says, taking a seat at the table. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Harry,” Nick says, stopping and turning to look at him. He looks tired, but resolved, like he’s drawn conclusions on whatever was bothering him. “I’m fine. Last night I was a bit, uh, distressed, you see, so I had a bit of a breakdown. No biggie, happens all the time.” He smiles, but it looks a little forced. “You helped me out a lot, thanks for that.”

“Alright,” Harry says. “If you’re sure you’re fine.”

“I am,” Nick says. “But thanks.”

Harry leaves Nick’s that day with a pat on the back and a whole lot of questions. Something had changed, but Harry isn’t sure what it is.

~~~

The next few days, it’s radio silence from Nick.

So Harry calls him at the end of the week. “When can I see you?” Harry pouts, his lower lip sticking out. He presses the phone closer to his ear, hoping he can transfer his pout through the line. He knows Nick can’t see him, but it doesn’t stop him. He’s in a pouty mood.

“Sorry,” Nick sighs over the line. “I’ve got like, twenty papers to grade tonight and I’m sure you’ve got some revising to do, so…”

Harry pouts harder.

“I can hear you pouting,” Nick says. “C’mon, Harry. This is probably best, anyhow.”

“I know,” Harry says. He actually does have a lot of revising to do, but…

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nick says fondly. “Drinks?”

“Fine,” Harry grumbles. 

Nick laughs. Harry can picture his eyes crinkling like they do whenever he smiles. “Bye, love. See ya.”

“Bye,” Harry echoes. He rolls over on his bed and stares blankly at the wall. Might as well do some work, be productive, he thinks. But he hasn’t seen Nick in almost four days by now, and he’s getting a little antsy. He keeps telling himself that it’s okay, that everything’s fine, but he can’t help but feel a little anxious. 

—

It’s not until a week later that Harry begins to realize that Nick might be ignoring him. At first, Nick stops scheduling study sessions. Harry didn’t think much of it at first, figuring that he was busy, but as the month wears on, Harry realizes that Nick’s been avoiding him. He stops calling on Harry in class and doesn’t make a point to talk to him outside of class, either. 

Harry has no idea what he did wrong, though. The only reason he could think of was the other night in Nick’s flat, when he caught Nick in a moment of vulnerability, but he’d seemed fine the morning after. 

“Why does he hate me?” Harry bemoans, lying back with his head tilted over the side of the sofa. “What did I do?”

“There, there,” Niall says, patting him on the head. “Don’t fret about it.”

“I can’t not fret about it,” Harry tells him mournfully. “I like him, Niall, I like him a lot. And I don’t know what I did.”

“Okay,” says Niall. “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you like him? Like, he’s your professor, yeah? Are you just concerned about his impression of you and how it’s gonna affect your grade?”

“No,” Harry whines. “I like him a thirty on a scale of one to ten.”

“So you like him a lot a lot?”

“A lot a lot,” Harry confirms sadly. 

“Oh, no,” Niall sighs.

“He’s just so hot and gorgeous and funny and smart,” Harry says. “I can’t help it.”

“You know it can’t go anywhere, right H?” Niall brushes some hair off his forehead. “He’s your professor. He probably hasn’t thought of you that way.”

“I know…” Harry heaves a sigh. “But…”

“But even if he did, he couldn’t,” Niall reminds him. “It’s against the rules.”

“Fuck the fucking rules,” Harry wails. “He’s so so great. And he’s only twenty-nine, okay, and I’m nearly twenty.”

“Bad idea, mate,” Niall says, shaking his head. “Your spot in uni is not worth any boy, no matter how cute he is.”

Harry pouts.

“Trust me, Harry,” Niall says. “Things will work out. If the semester ends and you still really like him, go for it.”

“That’s a whole ‘nother month,” Harry mutters.

Niall pats him on the head. “There, there.” He combs some of Harry’s hair back from his head. “If it means anything to you, I think he likes you back.”

“Niall,” Harry says seriously. “Don’t joke around with me.”

“I swear,” Niall says, holding his hands up. “I’ve seen you guys before. That time you went out to the pub and I was there with my friends, I saw you two. You were constantly flirting with him.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“But the thing was, he was flirting back.” Niall pats Harry’s shoulder. “You’ve got a real shot, mate.”

“Thanks, Niall,” Harry says weakly.

Niall shakes his head. “Get yer ass up, Harry. I’m not gonna stand for this moping. We’re going out tonight, okay?”

“No,” Harry moans.

“Yes,” Niall says firmly. “Get dressed. We’re leaving in thirty.”

“Why?” Harry wails, face planted in the couch. He knows he’s being a proper child right now, but he’s a bit stroppy over Nick and he really doesn’t feel like going out.

“It’s open mic night, Harry,” Niall says. “C’mon, I’ll play with you. It’ll cheer you up.”

Harry perks up a little. “You’ll play with me? Really?”

“Sure,” Niall says. “It’ll be just like the jam sessions we do around here.”

At open mic night, Harry dedicates a song to Nick. He doesn’t say his name outright, but he tells the crowd that it’s for someone he’s been pining after recently and then proceeds to play a soppy song about falling in love with your little things. Evidently, it’s not the best of nights for him.

~~~

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Harry tries to slam his hands on the desk but then regrets his decision and lightly lets his palms fall on the surface instead. 

It’s been about three weeks since Nick started freezing him out, and Harry decided to take matters into his own hands. He never knows where Nick is when he’s not in class, but he looked up his office hours and barged in. It’s been long enough.

Nick glances up, face pale. He’s been writing on an essay that’s on his desk, but he slowly lowers the pen in his hand. “You don’t have an appointment.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Bullshit.”

“Harry,” Nick says. His eyes are pleading. “Please don’t do this here.”

“Fine, then when?” Harry asks, eyes blazing. “I’ve had enough, Nick. I need to talk to you and you’re not getting out of it.”

“My flat, nine o’clock tonight.” Nick shuffles a few papers on his desk a little awkwardly. 

“Fine,” Harry repeats. “You better be there.”

“I will,” Nick says, and he looks resigned.

Harry leaves, mind whirling. Nick looked kind of defeated, like whatever had been keeping him away from Harry was a flimsy excuse that crumbled at the first sign of confrontation. Maybe he wasn’t too far out of reach after all.

—

Harry’s at Nick’s door at 9 o’clock sharp and raps his knuckles lightly on the door. 

“Come in,” Nick says.

Harry opens the door and steps inside. Nick’s in the kitchen, making coffee.

“Do you want a cuppa?” Nick asks, adding some milk and sugar.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Harry blurts out.

Nick lets out a long sigh and gestures for Harry to sit down, handing him his coffee.

“Thanks,” Harry murmurs, blowing the steam away from the surface of the coffee.

“Because I was scared,” Nick says simply.

“What?”

“That night you found me, I was a bit worse for wear,” Nick says, smiling a little sheepishly. “I had a bit of a crisis going on and you just came in and comforted me and helped me out, and I’m not good with feelings, and with sharing my emotions, and I’m sorry if this is such crap, but. I kind of sat there and had even more of a breakdown with you there because in that moment I realized how much you’d become part of my life.”

“Okay,” Harry says slowly. “But is that such a bad thing, me being in your life…?”

Nick looks at him. “The thing is, it isn’t. It’s fucking incredible having you to hang out with and discuss music with and share things with. But it’s scary. Because I’m ten years older than you, I'm really fucking old, okay, and you're so young and have so many other choices, and I’m your professor, and we can’t keep doing this.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Harry says quickly, trying to grasp at the chance that’s slipping through his fingers. “What are you trying to say, here?”

Nick shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

“I want to hear it.” He grabs Nick’s hand. “I don’t care if it’s a bad time.”

Nick sighs, glancing at their hands. “I guess I’m trying to say that spending time with you has led to me developing feelings. For you. And, we can’t.”

“But we can,” Harry protests, gripping Nick’s fingers. “I have feelings for you too, okay? And I don’t want to go back to you ignoring me. That was the worst few weeks of my life, Nick. I went from having a constant friend to nothing. You can’t just drop me like that, without a reason, okay?”

“I’m sorry about that,” Nick says. “But it was for the best. I knew that the more I hung out with you, the more risky it would be.”

“But I don’t care about that,” Harry says. “You’re only my professor for like, one more month.”

“You should care about that,” Nick says. “I’ve let it go a little too far, and now it’s too late. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Too late for that.”

“I know.”

“Then just give in, Nick. We like each other, so what?” Harry clenches Nick’s hand. 

“Harry…” 

Harry could see that Nick’s resolve was weakening. “C’mon, Nick.”

“Harry. If we’re going to do this, I want to do it right. Nothing until after the semester ends.” Nick bites his lip, nodding seriously. “I don’t want you to break any rules for me.”

“Nick!” Harry doesn’t know if he can wait a whole month for this. For them.

“Please, Harry.”

Harry looks at Nick. He’s pleading with him, his eyes wide and resigned. “Okay, fine.”

“Okay?” Nick asks, looking relieved.

“Okay,” Harry nods. “But rest assured, once that month is up I am not letting you go.”

“I don’t doubt that you will,” Nick says, eyes shining. For the first time in a while, he looks happy.

Harry leans in and presses a quick kiss to Nick’s lips. “One month.”

~~~

It’s the longest month of his life, but the whole time Harry feels like he could fly. He’s living in a world where he likes someone that makes his head spin, someone that makes him smile no matter what. Someone who likes him back just as much as he likes them. They don’t hang out as much as they probably could, because Harry feels like he wouldn’t be able to hold up his end of the deal and avoid jumping Nick once they get enough time alone, but it’s good. Nick winks at him in class and they give great banter during the brief conversations they have in class or during office hours. And Nick still texts, of course. All the time.

At the end of the month, right after Harry’s last final exam, he is absolutely buzzing. 

“It’s a glorious feeling,” Harry tells Louis as they walk back to their flat from their lecture. “Just knowing he wants me, too.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Everyone wants you, H, don’t deny it.”

“Not everyone!” Harry protests. “I’m sure you don’t want me that way.”

Louis makes a face. “That’s true. Although there was that one time in the beginning of freshers week where I thought we’d hook up.”

“Did you, now?”

“Yeah, but I’m so glad we didn’t. Imagine how awkward that would be.” Louis laughs to himself.

“Yeah,” Harry echoes, shaking his head fondly. Louis is one of his best friends now. 

“Well, I’m really glad for you, mate,” Louis says. “That’s so great that you and Nick finally worked things out. From what I heard, you were a right mess.”

“I was not,” Harry protests.

“You really, really were,” Niall says, popping up on Louis’s other side. “Sorry, Harry, but you were proper mopey.”

“Heyyyy,” Harry says.

“Hey, look,” Niall says, nudging his arm. “Prince Charming’s waiting for you.”

Harrys heart leaps into his throat. He had been pretty eager to take his last exam and rush back to his flat so he could figure out when he was seeing Nick tonight, but it turns out that he needn’t have worried. Nick’s car is parked outside the flats, and Nick himself is standing awkwardly by the car, hands in his pockets. He smiles sheepishly at Harry as he approaches.

“See ya later, mate,” Niall and Louis say, before they depart into the building.

“Bye,” Harry says softly, staring at Nick.

“Hiya, Styles,” Nick says, grinning crookedly at him. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Get over here, you bastard,” Harry says, and his voice sounds a little choked up. He reels forward, fisting his hands into the front of Nick’s button-down, and pulls him in.

This time, when they fall together, they don’t pull apart.

//end

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know how it is! I'm open to comments/likes/kudos :D


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